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Time for an update, methinks.
I have come to the realization that all of the house restoration and backyard farming videos and blogs that I have been following were made by people coming from G8 countries. Maybe they weren’t rich themselves, but their backgrounds gave them access that I – coming from a country in the very south of Africa – am not privy to. The hoops that I have to jump through don’t exist for them. As simple as that. Their only limitation – if at all – is money.
After meeting with wall after wall of very rude resistance, I am just about ready to give up on this dream. It’s no longer about finding the money. I can’t meet the standards that “They” have set.
There is one last option, but I am not sure whether I really want to entertain that thought. It would cut off my wings and shatter my will quite effectively if I give in.
I would need to find a sponsor, some rich person willing to adopt me in exchange for God only knows what and signing a piece of paper attesting to that fact. Am I willing to sell my soul in exchange for my dreams?
EDIT:
There is that expression of “It ain’t over ’till the fat lady sings.” For the record, I am not a fan of opera, but I know that the fat lady usually sings right at the end. So until then, there is still hope.
Frustrated with the bureaucracy in Italy, I have started looking at other Meditteranean countries. The one that caught my attention was Portugal. Despite the property prices being a bit higher, it seems a bit … easier … to move there, with less red tape. Or at least not sticky red tape! Time will tell.
